


Rage

by LunaUlric



Category: Final Fantasy XV, Kingsglaive
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt and comfort, Lunyx Week, Nightmares, kingsglaive ffxv, lunyx, otp: the princess and the glaive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 01:13:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12519592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaUlric/pseuds/LunaUlric
Summary: After a nightmare, the glaive helps the princess to release her inner emotion. (Warnings: Mentions of abuse and torture)





	Rage

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Day 4 of LuNyx Week on tumblr. Prompt: Dreams & Nightmares
> 
> Like most of my fics it's set in my Kingsglaive AU where Nyx works as a bodyguard for Luna regularly unless ordered to battle. This was a practice in writing emotion as seen from a different POV but I hope I did alright with it.

It was strange to see the gymnasium empty in this morning. Nyx had expected Crowe working on the speed ball, or Pelna sparring with someone, or even Libertus working the sit-ups on the mat. But no, there was no one occupying, no glaive to get surprised at their arrival. It was as if the place was entirely deserted for good.

It was just perfect timing though. Whatever drill or assignment the glaives could be doing right now, it should buy them some time.

Sunlight from the windows spilled on the floor. Luna’s eyes were on it, and she seemed as though she was fixated on it or on the dust floating through. On one knee, the glaive took his time wrapping the princess’ hand with the tape to protect her knuckles. He weaved the cloth in between her fingers as she sat on the bench silently. She was dressed he was – in a shirt and a comfy pair of pants. He wasn’t so sure if bringing her here was a good idea even thought she had agreed to his suggestion. But looking into her gaze pushed him to cater for this moment.

The glaive did promise the princess that he would teach her to fight one day. But that was different day and she had been in a different mood. Today, it was for something else entirely. There were times that the gym was a place for Nyx to blow off some steam after witnessing the most disturbing of nightmares. The workout helped bring some ease. Hopefully, it can reward her in the same way.

For now, silence was giving the comfort, as well as his touch. His fingers grazed her forearm so delicately like she still needed the softness - the same softness he gave her when she woke up distraught. From time to time, he checked if there were still tears or the slightest quiver of her lips. There were none. She was calm and collected as she had always been. At least, that’s what it seemed on the outside.  

Nyx tucked the end of the wrap into a seam to finish. Luna closed her palms and opened them again to test.

“Too tight?” he asked.

The blonde ponytail swayed when Luna shook her head. And she waited again with her eyes, letting him see what words would have easily said.

He saw it. Clear as day. And it felt familiar.

Finally, his legs straightened to stand. An arm extended. “Let’s start.” he said. She nodded and took his hand.

Nyx led Luna to his usual corner where a lone, leather-skinned, punching bag that stood. He had trained rookies with this bag. The princess would be the first for royal to ever throw a punch on it. But he would teach her too, of course, so she wouldn’t injure herself with a wrongly performed jab.

He pointed on a spot on the floor about a foot or two in front of the bag. “Stand there.”

The princess obeyed. “What’s next?” she uttered.

Nyx stood beside her to demonstrate a stance. “Spread your feet a bit, but put your right foot forward like this.”

And she did, sounding the floor with the small taps of her shoes. Next, he balled his fists and raised it. Wordlessly, she followed suit with her own fingers balling tightly. However, her arms were a little low. So he gently pushed them up a bit until her knuckles where right above her brows. After that, he fixed her posture by moving her shoulders to slouch.

Seeing the complete stance, he was a bit in awe to see her looking more like a fighter than a princess.

“Now,” he began. “Hit the bag straight. Don’t swing from the side and, while you’re at it, exhale. It’ll give you a lot of force.”

She nodded.

He moved away a bit to give her room. He saw her breathe and bring her focus up to the bag. She stared at it in silence, carrying that familiar weight that he saw earlier.

“Just pick a spot, princess.” he encouraged.

She nodded again. Muted air dominated. Her feet were still in position, her arms at ready. But after a while she took away her gaze and lowered her fists. At that moment, the weight no longer stayed in her gaze. It was on her face, on her numb expression. Nothing should be holding her back now, but she just stayed in her spot. Motionless. Still, the glaive was patient. She’d throw it any minute now. She has to.  

But the clock ticked and the defenseless bag was eventually left untouched.

Nyx couldn’t help but approach the blonde. He touched her cheek softly and caringly. And she covered his hand with hers as if she had hungered for that warmth. Maybe she didn’t need this. Maybe she really did. Whatever she chooses to do, he would be there to help – like he tried to give whatever comfort when her screams had roused him to her aid.

The glaive could still remember the princess’ distress over the nightmare she had just had last night. He had been there to hold her, to whisper calmness into her ear - as she always did when he had been the one waking up with cold sweat. He had dried her damped cheeks and had coaxed her to a dreamless rest. They slept in peace again, together in closeness, but it was never enough.

He knew it would never be enough and that was why they were here now.

Again, Luna brought her eyes to her glaive. It was still there. All bottled up. The familiar rage that he thought he wouldn’t see in such a graceful person as she. The princess, as he knew her, did not hold this much anger and would never be the one to express it rashly and outwardly as he would. But there was something about that nightmare that had her shaken and vulnerable to the emotion.

And it was able to reveal their sameness in that aspect. Him and her. Survivors of conflict. Cursed by the memories of the dead and the war.

He looked at the punching bag and thought of the faces he saw on it that caused his own wrath.  

“What do you see, princess?”

She tilted her head. A silent question.

“Who do you see?” he rephrased.

It took a moment before he heard her stern but quiet voice.

“My mother’s killer… The man who tortured my brother… The old man who hit me every time I tried to stop it or when I rebelled.”

Nyx clenched his fists as he heard about them. His heart pounded, imagining all she had been through. Luna had confided to him about these men before and the scars that they left on her body. They had inflicted pain on her and there was no one there to protect her.

No one.

His anger came as swiftly as he heard the punch. The princess’ knuckles connected to the skin of bag – denting it - and it made a satisfying thud. The glaive moved away and the princess made the second punch.

The stance was good, the arm was steady and straight. She breathed sharply as she hit it. There was fire in her eyes.

The third came. Then the fourth. One came after the other. Left and right. She punched with balled, shaky fists. Each time harder and louder. Eventually, the proper stance wasn’t maintained anymore but the glaive didn’t make any correction. He was never really there to teach her anyway; he was just there to let her release all of it. Because she needed it more than anything else at that moment.

With each hit, her exhales turned into grunts. And the grunts eventually turned into sobs. The punches weakened – dwindled, slowed. When it stopped entirely, the princess screamed fiercely and achingly at the bag.

At the faces who wronged her.

At fate that gave her a life of a prisoner.

Her voice may be alone, but in his heart the glaive joined her.  _Damn them. Damn them all._

When silence overtook the place once more, he saw her tears shine. They fell as her whole body did. Nyx caught her before knees touched the ground. His arms guarded her like her life depended on it. He felt her grasp on his shirt as she cried. And the glaive cradled the princess, the way a man would embrace his beloved for as long as the furious sobs lasted. Seeing her this way left cracks in his heart and everything in him sorely wished he could take all of this pain away from her. If only there was a way.

The sunlight now touched them like a spotlight. Luna’s head leaned on his chest while she spent the last of her weeping in his hold. Nyx’s beating heart slowed as her breathing did. He too felt the cathartic aftermath – this peace after the rage. And in silence, feeling that temporary tranquil, they stayed on the floor to get soaked under the light’s warmth. And the glaive continued to hold the princess, as though her hurt had been his and his had been hers.


End file.
